


Lost and Found (Started All Wrong, Ended Up in Bed)

by PendragonPenchant



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Luggage Swap, M/M, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2014-09-22
Packaged: 2018-02-18 09:44:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2343941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PendragonPenchant/pseuds/PendragonPenchant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a twist of fate, Merlin and Arthur accidentally take each other's bags. After some cranberry juice, frustrating phone conversation, and early dinner, the two end up in Arthur's king-sized bed at an exquisite Manhattan hotel.</p><p>(AKA: Merlin and Arthur lose their luggage in each other's hands with an accidental swap at the airport. When they meet up, they learn that perhaps they found more than just their bags-- they found their soulmates, too. <s>It's not as sappy as it sounds, promise.</s>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost and Found (Started All Wrong, Ended Up in Bed)

**Author's Note:**

> ~~I couldn't decide on a title, hence the alternative title and summary. Anyway,~~ I present to you all my own take on the switched luggage plot. I SWEAR I DIDN'T MEAN FOR THIS TO BECOME THIS LONG! I had it all under control until the story took a life of its own. (How can a story set in one day turn into almost 9K words? I blame it on the imagery.) Really, this is the longest story I've ever written, _ever_.
> 
> I'm neither American nor British, so sorry for any related mistakes. As usual, I do not own Merlin nor any of its characters. They, together with other trademarks mentioned in the story, were used for purely entertainment purposes only.
> 
> (Also, as hinted by the rating, ahead lies some porn.)

_Though a bit breathless and dizzy from the hike up several flights of spiral stairs, he excitedly ran to the view deck. The air smelt of copper and of the sea. He knew he was at the crown of the Statue of Liberty; however, there was something different to it. When his eyes scanned the view outside, the bustle of Downtown Manhattan met him. Different skyscrapers extended way above the height of The Lady. Two blocks away, he could make out the Empire State Building. As he looked down (and survived the brief attack of acrophobia) he saw that around the foot of the Statue, cars zoomed past._

_"Merlin," a deep, male voice called._

_He turned to the sound of his name, and found another man approaching him. Toned arms half-covered by the folded sleeves of a polo reached out to him. Merlin stepped closer, and the other man's hands found their place on Merlin's hips._

_Merlin could not see the other man's face; but a feeling inside him made him lean towards the stranger's (no-- he did not feel like a stranger) lips. He then wrapped his arms around the man's shoulders, urging to deepen the kiss. He felt a tongue probing on the seam of lips, to which he--_

"--cuse me, sir. Sir, please wake up."

Merlin felt some mild but insistent nudging on his shoulder. Unwillingly, he cracked his eyes open to find a sweet-looking female looking down on him. She was wearing a midnight blue blazer and a matching pencil skirt. Underneath the blazer was a crisp white button-down, and a dominantly-scarlet scarf peeking through. The woman's hair was kept in a bun and topped with a cap with a silver emblem. Her beautiful face was etched with alarm which quickly morphed into relief when Merlin's eyes met his.

It was then that Merlin realized he had slept too deep during the flight. The seat beside him was already vacant, along with the rest.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry!" He exclaimed through chapped lips.

"It's alright, sir," Mithian, as Merlin's sleep-blurred eyes soon read on her nameplate, told him with a soft smile. "I'm afraid you're the last passenger on the plane."

"Right," Merlin said sheepishly as he stood up from his seat. The top of his head hit the cabin overhead with a thud, earning him a startled expression from the attendant.

"Careful, sir!"

"Thanks, I'm used to it, really," Merlin assured her with a chuckle.

The stewardess stepped aside to allow him to exit the row. Merlin looked up to find the compartment already open, his backpack the only remaining content. He reached for his bag and pulled it down, slipping his slender arms into the loops. He did so carefully to not accidentally swing at the flight stewardess

"Sir, your luggage will be in Carousel 5," Mithian informed. She then added with a smile that radiated with years of practice, "Welcome to New York."

Merlin returned an equally glowing grin and nodded with a "thank you".

He made his way past the rest of the economy class and through the business and first class sections. Two other attendants-- one male and one female-- thanked and bid him goodbye at the end of the aisle. He acknowledged them with a smile, and stepped out of the aircraft.

Briskly, he made his way to the baggage claim area, guided by the signs. Upon getting there, he looked for the carousel marked with the number 5. He released a sigh of relief when he spotted a lone black trolley bag on the moving platform. He then lifted it from the conveyor belt, placed it wheels-down on the floor, and pulled it behind him as he made his way to the taxi bay.

===

The sleek, black car rolled into the driveway of one of the city's finest hotels. Once the vehicle came into a full stop, Arthur stepped out. The same man who opened the door for him took his luggage out of the trunk and escorted him inside the establishment.

They walked across the lobby, where an exquisite-looking chandelier made of gold and crystals hovered. Upon reaching the front desk, a woman with Hispanic features looked up from behind the counter.

"Hello, sir. How may I help you?" She asked, her pearly whites in full display.

Arthur gave his own smile in return. "I would like to check-in," he said as he opened his laptop satchel. He then fished out the documents containing the necessary information for his hotel accommodation, which he handed to the lady.

The same woman, whose nameplate read Monique, took the papers courteously. She then jabbed several keys on the computer before her. "Mr. Arthur Pendragon, is it right?"

"That's me," Arthur replied in the most pleasant manner.

The woman's brown eyes scanned the screen in front of her and spoke up, her American accent crystal clear, "Mr. Pendragon, you reserved a superior guest room?"

Arthur answered with a nod.

"Alright sir, your room is already being prepared. You may want to take a seat first," Monique gestured to the waiting area. "We will be serving refreshments while you wait."

Arthur thanked the woman and plopped himself on one of the plush sofas. He turned his head to check on his luggage, and was assured when he saw his full-sized travel bag at the side of the front desk, where attendant brought it. He then rested his back on the cushion and briefly closed his eyes. Even though he was asleep for the majority of his nine-hour flight, he was still tired. Just to kill some waiting time, Arthur crossed his left leg over his right one, and poured his attention on his brown leather loafers. He then sensed a movement behind him, and saw a man in a black and white ensemble walking towards his direction, a tray in hand.

"Cranberry juice, sir," the brown-haired lad said as he transferred the glass from the tray to the spot on the table in front of Arthur.

"Thanks," came out of Arthur's mouth as he plucked the glass from the table and brought its rim to his lips. He sipped the drink, letting its sweetness make its way down his throat.

Right as he drank the last drop of the juice, he heard a call for his name.

"Sir Arthur Pendragon!"

As soon as he left the empty glass on the table, he grabbed his laptop bag from where it was laying beside him. He slung the strap over his right shoulder and stood up. When he whirled around, he felt an impact.

A female voice shrieked in a language that Arthur did no understand. He began to apologize, but was distracted when he felt something moist on his chest. He looked down and saw (with widened eyes) a pinkish tint blooming on his white polo shirt.

The woman he collided with switched to English mode and said, "I am so sorry!"

Arthur looked at the stranger with the filled glass and told her, "I'm sorry, too," though he did not put much conviction on it. The spill on the lady's top was less evident, since it was a smaller patch of pink over prints.

Arthur had no intention of prolonging the awkward incident, so he stepped away and proceeded to the front desk. Monique, who obviously noticed the commotion and its effect stamped on Arthur's top, kept a professional face.

"Sir Arthur, your room is now ready," the woman said as she handed a keycard and its envelope. "Neil here will accompany you to your room. Thank you and enjoy your stay with us."

Right on cue, a stocky man appeared beside Arthur, luggage in tow. Arthur politely said "thank you" to Monique and followed Neil to the lifts (or elevators, as they call it in America).

Throughout the ascent, Arthur acted nonchalantly regarding the stain on his top (even though those who entered the lift after him gave him judging looks). He was just eager to get to his room and change into a clean shirt. Mentally, he pat himself on the shoulder for always packing extra clothes.

The lift dinged on his floor, and he followed Neil out through the automated doors. After several strides and a turn at the end of the hallway, Neil stopped at the side of a door with metal numbers that matched the ones etched on the keycard. Arthur slid the card into the designated slot, waited for a beep, pulled out the key and turned the knob.

He was first to enter the room. He took in the classical beauty of it. Sunlight shone through the bay windows which provided a magnificent view. The bedsheets were pristine, almost glowing like the trims of the furnishings of the room. There was a round table aside from the one across the bed, both carrying the sheen of newly-polished wood. To his left was a mini bar lined with miniatures of various exquisite liquors. Underneath was a microwave and a fridge that were up to the modern times. As he walked further in the room, he saw a door with a mirror panel which he assumed led to the bathroom.

The bellboy, Neil, rolled Arthur's bag in. Before he left the room, Arthur pulled out a bill from his wallet (now filled with newly-converted dollars) and tipped him.

As Arthur heard the door close, he freed his shoulder of his satchel and placed it on the table beside the widescreen. He then dragged his travel bag to a wider space and laid it on its back. He unzipped the bag and lifted its cover open.

He expected to see his folded dress shirts and trousers (for the three-day business convention starting tomorrow; plus a few casual pieces) neatly stacked inside; but what the luggage contained surprised him-- shirts and jeans rolled up in (organized, space-maximizing) piles.

===

Upon entering his Cozy Room (that was really what it was called), Merlin threw himself on the chair. He leaned back for a bit, breathing out the exhaustion brought about by the trip. Lazily, he bounced up to a stand and made to walk towards his luggage. He zipped open the outer pocket and slid his hand inside, rummaging for his pouch of toiletries. His heart hammered with panic when his right hand felt nothing inside. Gently, he pushed the bag onto the floor and opened its main compartment.

His hammering heart jerked to a stop. It was not his bag.

Merlin checked the side for any nameplate. When he found none, he opened the inside zip of the luggage and searched for an identification of sorts.

"Shit, shit, shit," he repeatedly cursed as he looked for a clue as to who owned the luggage that was with him (and who got his in return).

===

The bag clearly not his, Arthur walked over to the telephone mounted on the table and dialed the front desk. It took barely three beeps before the call was answered (Arthur applauded them for their prompt response, in his mind).

"This is the front desk, hello?" A male American voice spoke.

"Yes, hello, this is Arthur Pendragon from Room 1202," Arthur began in his most professional manner. "I was wondering if you could check with the bell desk if there's a black bag with my name on it? I'm afraid they might have switched my luggage."

There was silence on the other end of the line, albeit short. "We are sorry for the trouble, sir. Could you please describe the bag for us?"

Arthur turned around and looked at the bag on the floor. It looked just like that. "Uh, it's a black canvas stroller bag, Samsonite brand. My name should be at the back."

"Black Samsonite, noted. Sir, we will just check with the bell desk and get back to you. Kindly stay on the line."

"Alright, thank you,"Arthur replied.

There was some light shuffling at the other end of the line. He also heard his surname being said faintly in the background. Anxiously, he drummed his fingers on the table's wooden surface. A few minutes after, the man returned.

"Hello, Mr. Pendragon? I'm afraid there is no bag here under your name."

Arthur's heart sank. He tried to keep the edge off his voice when he asked, "Did you check well?"

"Yes, sir. There is neither a Samsonite bag at the bell desk nor a bag with your name."

Arthur mentally cursed. "I see, thank you very much for your time."

"You're welcome, sir."

Arthur did not wait for the man on the phone to say something about hoping to find the luggage. He put the phone back on its cradle and stomped back to the bag. If his bag did not get switched at the hotel, then it could only mean one thing-- he took the wrong bag at the airport. Swearing, he rummaged through the things inside the luggage, looking for any helpful information. When he turned out to be unsuccessful, he threw himself into the bed, grunting in frustration.

Suddenly, he felt something vibrate in his pocket. He took out his cellphone and saw an unidentified number on the screen. Normally, he did not answer anonymous calls while his phone was on roaming. However, he saw that the first digits bore the UK country code. Thinking that it might be the one who took his luggage, he accepted the call.

"Arthur Pendragon speaking," he said, being his default opening line.

"Oh, hi," a slightly shaky voice-- evidently belonging to a man-- piped. "Merlin here. Merlin Emrys."

"Hmm, I don't think I know any Merlin," Arthur wondered out loud. He urged the person to tell more. "Why did you call? And how did you get my number?"

"Uhm... I believe you may have taken my bag."

Arthur was unable to stop from scoffing. So the person on the other line was just exactly who he needed. "Hold on,  _you_  took  _my_ bag too."

"Fine! I believe our bags have been switched," Merlin said, sounding exasperated. "But I was the last one down the plane, so it was most definitely  _you_  who did the taking first."

"Well maybe if you didn't leave the plane late and your bag had a label, then this wouldn't have happened," Arthur snapped back.

" _Excuse me?!_ " The other man's voice rose. "My bag has a label. Maybe you'd have seen it if you looked carefully. Unless you were colorblind and completely missed the  _red_  bag tag."

"Well, Mr. Emerson or whatever it is, I definitely do not see any tag here," Arthur said as he looked at the bag again.

"What?!" There was a brief pause. "It's  _Emrys_. Merlin Emrys," he sighed. "Anyway, could you please check if the bag is indeed mine? Because I got yours for sure."

Arthur crouched down and scanned the contents of the travel bag again. "Well, it has rolls of clothes. There's a shirt that says 'Cute', I think?" Arthur raised his eyebrows at that, and tried to hide the incredulity in his voice.

"It's  _'Cute is What We Aim For_ '," Merlin said in a matter-of-fact tone, as if Arthur was supposed to know (which he did not). "That's most definitely mine, then. So how do we go about this?"

"Well, we meet up, as soon as possible."

"Thanks,  _Mr. Genius_ ," the caller replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Where should we meet up? Where are you staying anyway?"

Arthur tried so hard not to curse at Merlin. "I'm staying at the Waldorf Astoria."

Unexpectedly, he heard a bark of laughter from the other end of the line. "Of course. You're one of  _those people_."

Even though the other guy would not be able to see it, Arthur narrowed his eyes. "What is that even supposed to mean?"

"Oh, you know what I mean," Merlin said. "So I guess I am obliged to bring your luggage to you," and added, " _sire?_ "

The man was really testing Arthur's limits. His right hand strained on its grip on his cellphone. "On any normal occasion, I would meet up with you somewhere that is convenient for both of us," he answered. "But since I can't go out at the moment without looking like a fool-- don't ask why-- I would like to  _kindly_  ask that we meet here instead."

"Ah, so Arthur Pendragon isn't just a prat, turns out he's also a clotpole," Merlin taunted.

"What the--"

"Anyway, I'll be there at five-ish. See you then," Merlin said, cutting Arthur off. He then added in a lighter tone, "Don't even think about messing with my things. Remember, I have yours!"

The line went off before Arthur could even say anything. Grumbling about how annoying the person he talked to was, Arthur stripped off his messed-up shirt and headed to the bathroom, feeling the need to at least brush his teeth.

===

Merlin let out a heavy exhale as he ended the phone call. As it turned out, the person who got his luggage had a terrible attitude. It's pretty ridiculous how the conversation went downward just a few lines in. In his mind, he has created his own image of Arthur Pendragon: a man with brown hair sculpted with gel; a square face marred with wrinkles; almond eyes framed with glasses, and; an average body type always in a business suit.

He boosted himself on his feet and went to his backpack. He pulled out a pair of jumper and jeans from inside (good thing he always packs a spare in there every time he travels). Fresh clothes in hand, Merlin went inside the quaint bathroom.

After taking a refreshing shower with the bath amenities provided by the hotel, Merlin put on his clean clothes. He looked at his reflection in the asymmetrical mirror. He was about to go into a high-class hotel and meet up with a businessman-- of course he had to look presentable. Satisfied with himself, Merlin exited the bathroom and put his valuables in his pockets. After one last check on the time on his cellphone, he put on his sneakers (wrinkling his nose at having to reuse his socks), grabbed the trolley bag, and headed out of his hotel room.

===

The shrill ring of the landline pulled Arthur from his slumber and back to reality. He reached for the phone on the bedside table and cleared his throat before answering.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Pendragon?" A female voice spoke.

"Speaking," Arthur answered as he sat up on the bed.

"A Merlin Emrys is here for you."

It took a while for his sleep-stuck brain to process the name. When his thoughts finally pieced back together, Arthur said, "Ah yes, please send him up."

"Yes, sir. Thank you so much."

"Thanks," Arthur echoed, and put the phone down. He then lied back on the soft bed and closed his eyes. After a few lazy minutes, he finally threw the sheets away from his body and jumped out of the bed. The cool air hit his naked chest, making him shiver. He walked towards the control panel on the wall and increased the thermostat even further than the setting he made before he took a nap. Afterwards, he proceeded to the closet and grabbed the fluffy bathrobe provided by the hotel. He slid his arms into the holes and wrapped the ribbon around his waist. Together with his trousers on, it was the most decent he could look as of the moment. Next, he closed the luggage properly and stood it upright. With a quick run to the bathroom, he splashed his face with water and fixed his bedhead.

Arthur heard a buzz from the door, and he made his way towards it.

===

Merlin stood on the wide corridor as he waited. His left hand that rang the doorbell now hung limply on his side, while the other was on the handle of the luggage. When the door opened to reveal the person inside, Merlin's breath was taken away.

The man in front of him was incredibly handsome. He had piercing eyes that mirrored clear skies, and golden hair that was lightly rumpled (as if begging to be messed up even more). But the part that was the most striking for Merlin was his jawline that seemed to have been chiseled by the gods, as well as those cheekbones (not as prominent as Merlin's own, but were attractive nevertheless). When Merlin raked his eyes down, his sense of sight was even more pleased. The man was in a bathrobe, revealing a V of skin and what looked to be a toned chest.

Merlin suddenly remembered his purpose for being there. For a moment, he feared that he may have buzzed on the wrong door. Surely, this bloody gorgeous man was not the prat that he was talking to over the phone.

"You must be Merlin."

Upon hearing those words, Merlin felt like a ton of bricks fell on him. The man may be good-looking, but his personality definitely was the exact opposite, as he witnessed over the phone.

"Yup, that's me. Arthur, right?" Merlin said, releasing his hold on the bag and stretching his hand out of courtesy. "It's good to meet you."

Arthur shook his hand, the motion appearing to be very mechanical. "Likewise."

"So, I have your bag," Merlin piped as soon as they dropped each other's hands.

"Ah yes, come on in," Arthur said as he opened the door at its widest to let Merlin in. Merlin tried not to roll his eyes at how Arthur was treating him like a bellhop who had to bring his bag inside for him.

As soon as Merlin has completely rolled the luggage in, he could not help but marvel at the room. It was spacious and bright, a far cry from his boutique hotel room (but his room suited his taste and needs just fine). Of course he did not expect any less for a self-righteous prat such as Arthur.

Arthur brought him his bag. As soon as he got his hands on it, Merlin felt relief flood his veins. "Thank you," he said with a grin.

"Thanks too," Arthur replied, his own lips curling in a smile. It looked very sincere that it took Merlin off-guard.

"Right. Do you mind if I, uh, just check on my things?" He asked, gesturing towards his own bag. He then hastily added, "Not that I think you'd... you know."

Arthur let out a laugh (which he was actually capable of, Merlin surprisedly noted). "No, go ahead," he answered. "In fact, I think I'd like to check mine as well. Not that I think you'd-- yeah, either."

Merlin pushed his bag on its back and crouched beside it. He checked every compartment-- everything was where it was supposed to be, despite having traces of having been touched. But that was acceptable since he knew Arthur must have tried to look for any clue as to who the bag belonged to (he did the same, actually). He wondered if Arthur saw everything inside his bag, and blushed at the thought of it.

His musings were cut off by the sound of Arthur's bag being zipped. He looked up to find Arthur back on his feet.

"All good," Arthur said.

Merlin closed his own bag and stood up as well. "Yup, same here."

For a moment, they were both frozen on their spots, unsure about what was to happen next.

"Right," Merlin seemed to have a habit of saying that word. "I should go now," he said as he made to turn for the door.

"Wait," Arthur called out, making Merlin stop in his tracks.

He thought he saw a look of uncertainty cross Arthur's face when he met his eyes.

"Would you like to grab a bite?" Arthur asked, surprising Merlin.  "I mean, it's the least I can do for making you go all the way here."

Merlin was going to politely decline, if only his stomach did not answer for him. He hoped Arthur did not hear the grumble.

"I thought it was still a bit early for dinner, but it seems you're already hungry," Arthur said with a chuckle, confirming his query. "No worries, me too."

Merlin felt his cheeks and ears flame up. "You don't have to, really," he managed to voice out.

"Nonsense," Arthur said. "You sit down first, and I'll dress up," he ordered, gesturing to one chair. He then bent down and grabbed some pieces of clothing from his bag.

Merlin walked over to where the chair was and dropped himself on it. He then realized how Arthur just commanded him and he obediently followed, and he mentally smacked on the head for that. He then took out his phone in an attempt to distract himself from conjuring images of was beyond and beneath the bathrobe.

===

When Arthur invited Merlin to eat out, he meant it as a friendly gesture. He would never admit it out loud, but he knew he was rude to the other guy on the phone. Finally dressed in clean clothes, Arthur exited the bathroom and found Merlin sitting down. Upon hearing the door click, Merlin looked up from his phone and stood up once he saw him.

"You can leave your bag here first," Arthur began. "I'm not sure if you can leave it at the bell desk, so we'll just come back for it later."

"Ah, sure," Merlin said as he nodded. As Merlin pulled his bag to a spot near the door, Arthur brought his farther from it, to make sure that they did not accidentally swap luggage again. "We can't have that happening again, yeah?" Merlin piped with a chuckle, clearly thinking the same as Arthur.

"Indeed," Arthur answered, to which Merlin responded with a wide grin. Arthur wondered how old the lad was, since he had this youthful vibe. He decided to stash that question for later. "Come on," he urged as he walked towards the door.

Merlin went out first. After checking that he had everything he needed, Arthur pulled out the keycard from the slot on the wall and closed the door to his hotel room.

He walked along the corridor, Merlin following closely. Arthur now had on a plain, navy blue crew-neck shirt and light-wash denim trousers which he folded at the hems. He took every step in his trusted pair of black suede topsiders (which he was glad to change into once he got his luggage back).  
  
"I hope you're good with some Italian," Arthur said as he looked behind him, where Merlin was.  
  
Merlin seemed to have been lost in thought. Once he regained his wits, he replied, "Yes, Italian's good. Perfect, actually."  
  
"Good," Arthur murmured. "I know of a place nearby," he said with a clearer and louder voice. Once they reached the lifts, Arthur pressed the 'down' button. They stood beside each other as they waited.  
  
"So... Why couldn't you go out before?" Merlin inquired with a tilt of his head.  
  
"Ah, some lady spilt juice on my shirt," Arthur answered, putting his hands in his pockets. He saw Merlin's face twist with a grimace. "And I was wearing white, too!" He added lightly.  
  
Merlin hissed. "That's really bad."  
  
"I know. And I didn't have anything to change into because my bag turned out to be _not_ my bag," Arthur jested as they entered the lift.  
  
"That's why I always bring extra clothes in my knapsack!" Merlin exclaimed rather proudly. "You'll never know when you'll need them," Bouncing once on the balls of his feet, he said in addition, "Thank goodness you had your info on your bag, by the way!"  
  
"Yeah, unlike yours which was completely unidentifiable,  _Mer_ lin" he said as he narrowed his eyes playfully at Merlin.  
  
"I told you, it had a tag!" Merlin defended himself. "It must have broken off during the transfer," he followed with what looked like a pout.  
  
Arthur was about to retort with something sarcastic, but decided against it. Instead, he just nodded and looked straight ahead. From their reflections on the lift doors, Arthur realized that Merlin had a few centimetres on him.  
  
The lift dinged at the ground floor. They stepped out as soon as the doors slid apart, Arthur first. As they walked the fairly-short distance between the hotel and the restaurant, they asked each other some basic questions. They talked about how long they were staying-- to which Arthur said five days, and Merlin four. Merlin then asked if Arthur has been to New York before, since he seemed to know his way around very well. It has actually only been four months since Arthur was at the Big Apple before. Merlin, on the other hand, last went three years ago.  
  
That then brought up the question of what they did for a living, which Merlin initiated. Arthur told him that he worked at Swiss Re ("Ah, the egg," joked Merlin. Arthur rolled his eyes, "It's the  _Gherkin_ ," he corrected. "I know, but you can't expect everyone else to know what a  _gherkin_  is," Merlin retorted.) As for Merlin, he was working for technology company IBM. When Arthur finally let his curiosity get the best of him, he asked how old Merlin was. As it turned out, Merlin was twenty-five, just two years shy of Arthur's age.  
  
As they rounded the corner of the block, they found their destination. Judging from Merlin's reaction, he has not been there before. Arthur asked for a table for two, and they were guided inside by a petite brunette.  
  
The place was perfect, Arthur thought. It was as wonderful as he had remembered it. The ambiance was light and lively, not like those typical venues for romantic dates. (If it had been that way, then it would have been awkward for two men like them.) The price range was just right, too; quite above the average, but well-worth the reputation of the  _trattoria_. The same woman handed them a menu each, which they both flipped through.  
  
"Found what you want?" Arthur asked Merlin, whose forehead was wrinkled by his slightly-alarmed eyes. When Merlin looked at him, Arthur flashed a smile in an attempt to make his company feel at ease.  
  
Merlin smiled back shyly and cast his eyes back on the menu. He then nodded his head, and Arthur raised his hand to call for a waiter's attention.  
  
Shortly after, a youthful man with curly, brown hair approached their table and introduced himself as 'Ted'. Arthur gave him his usual order, an oil-based seafood pasta, which he obediently wrote down. Ted also wrote down Merlin's order-- a spinach and cheese ravioli. To go with their meals, Arthur got root beer, and Merlin "just water, thanks".  
  
Arthur shifted in his chair to check on his phone for any new calls or messages (there were none). Across him, Merlin mirrored his actions. Ted then returned with a tray containing a little basket of bread and their drinks. One by one, he transferred them to Arthur and Merlin's table. Arthur then poured the root beer from the amber bottle into his glass of ice. After taking a small sip, he plucked a piece of bread from the wicker and gestured to Merlin, inviting him to do the same.  
  
Merlin first excused himself to go to the loo. Once he came back, he reached for the complementary starters with one willowy arm. He then nibbled on a piece, some crumbs falling. They ate in companionable silence, until Merlin finished his second slice of toast.  
  
"So, Arthur, what plans do you have for... five days, is it right?" Merlin asked after drinking some water.  
  
Arthur hummed in agreement as he wiped some breadcrumbs off his mouth. "I'll be attending a three-day conference starting tomorrow."  
  
"Oh. Sounds... fun," Merlin supplied, sounding both sarcastic and uncertain.  
  
"Very," Arthur agreed with equal sarcasm. "How about you?"  
  
Merlin chewed on another slice. "Well, I'm not yet sure. Maybe I'll go to The Guggenheim and watch a show or two. But tomorrow, I'm meeting up with a friend from uni. Just some hanging out and catching up, just like old times."  
  
"Seems like a really good friend," Arthur remarked, judging from the excited way that Merlin shared his plans. He then took his third slice of bread, which was also the last in the basket. (There seemed to have been a silent agreement between the two men that they shared equally on the bread.)  
  
"Oh, he's definitely great," Merlin said, nodding enthusiastically. His voice rose to an eager pitch once more, his now free hands gesticulating wildly. "Lance and I, we have a lot in common. We were practically inseparable in uni, so much that people even thought we were dating," Merlin shook his head fondly, the motion minimal, as if it was only meant for him. "But no, Lance is just really kind and sweet to everyone. That's how he is," he also murmured, "Plus, he had a girlfriend."  
  
Arthur saw Merlin's face freeze with panic, as if he divulged something that he was not supposed to. When Arthur rewound the words that Merlin said, he managed to read between the lines. He wondered whether his interpretation was right. Did Merlin play on the same team as he did?  
  
Merlin's face quickly morphed into one of relief when Ted came to them with their dishes. The Italian terms rolled off the server's tongue with expertly ease as he set the plates down on the table. Merlin and Arthur both murmured "thanks" and earned themselves a smile and a bow of the head from Ted.  
  
The two men dug in their food peacefully, savouring the flavors. From time to time, Arthur would sneak a look at Merlin. The thought of it seemed absurd to Arthur that it nearly made him choke on his food. He did not know how, but suddenly it was as if the curtains lifted and he suddenly began to see Merlin in a different light (this time, he actually  _saw_  him).  
  
When Arthur first saw Merlin, he was already taken aback by how prominent his cheekbones were (way more than his own); but it was just a mere observation back then. Now, he definitely saw it as one of Merlin's assets. Even Merlin's hair, what seemed to be a bowl cut at first, has made Arthur feel a desire to run his fingers through it. Arthur shook his head to shoo the ridiculous thought away (he hoped Merlin did not notice). Merlin's ears, which Arthur thought were comical when he first spotted them, now looked endearing too. His lips did not escape Arthur's admiration either; how it is that he did not realize how kissable they looked sooner, Arthur did not understand (the thought made him almost stumble off his chair this time-- he was going mad).  (He had to notice it while Merlin was already eating, too. That just added to the evidence that Arthur was going bonkers.)  
  
Merlin's eyes, however, were the most mesmerizing for Arthur. They were blue like his, but they had a tint of grey in them, like the deep ocean. They were captivating; Arthur wondered how they seemed even bluer when he just opened his eyes (if magic were real, Arthur would have accepted that as an explanation).  
  
Arthur then realized that Merlin just caught him in the act of ogling (for the lack of a better word). Merlin was now staring back at him, a high color painting his lovely cheeks (they were very obvious against his creamy skin). Arthur involuntarily copied his blush.  
  
"Do I have something on my face?" Merlin asked, his voice rising to a panicked tone. He then made to grab the napkin on the table.  
  
"No," Arthur answered, stopping Merlin's hand with his own. Upon realizing that he just held Merlin's hand, Arthur retracted his hand and murmured a "sorry". His blush had not yet even subsided, and it was already returning to his face.  
  
Merlin, as it was possible (to Arthur's surprise), turned even redder as he mumbled, "It's alright."  
  
They resumed on eating, silence filling the space between them once more. Arthur could not help shake off the fact that things have taken an awkward turn. What he intended as a friendly offer has ended up in making Merlin feel uncomfortable. Merlin must now be thinking that Arthur had ulterior motives in asking him to 'grab a bite' with him (which he really did not).  
  
It was Merlin who broke the silence.  
  
"So... uhm, where in the UK do you live?"

Normally, Arthur would answer such nonchalantly; but with Merlin, he felt rather embarrassed. "Chelsea," he managed to answer.

Arthur saw Merlin try to keep his reaction at bay. "Why am I not surprised," he said with a laugh.

Merlin's laugh was so carefree that it magically lifted the tension between them.

Arthur rolled his eyes jokingly. "Whatever," he said. "How about you, where do you stay?"

"Shoreditch," Merlin said as he cleared his throat. His eyes avoided Arthur, looking abashed.

"Shoreditch!" Arthur echoed (he was surprised, if he were to be honest). "And  _you're_ one to talk," he added with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Shut up," mumbled Merlin, his cheeks and ears turning pink. "It's not like I own the place to myself."

Arthur's laugh got cut. "You don't?"

Merlin looked at Arthur and raised his eyebrow. "It's in  _Central London_ ," he said, as if to make his point.

Arthur did not know what to say. He lived in his flat in Chelsea all by himself, financed by his job. "Err, so you--"

"I live with a flatmate," Merlin finished for him, seeming glum.

"You don't sound too happy with that," Arthur observed.

Merlin's eyes widened. "No," he answered. "No, I mean, I'm not...  _not_  happy. My flatmate-- Gwaine's his name-- is great. He keeps to his end of the bargain," Merlin explained. "Always does his part. It's just that... he drives me nuts, you know?" He looked at Arthur, as if expecting him to agree (Arthur nodded anyway). "He's just so...  _out there._ We're so different, it's a mystery we're such good mates."

Arthur was torn between feeling glad that Merlin was only friends with the Gwaine lad, and jealous that he was living with another man at all (technically speaking). "What exactly does being,  _out there,_ " he said, putting invisible quotes with his hands, "mean?"

Merlin seemed to gather his thoughts. "Well, for one, he likes to walk around the flat naked," Arthur began to laugh, but stopped when he saw Merlin bite his lip, like he did not mean to say that. He quickly remedied his lack of filter. "I mean, like, every night-- nearly-- he has a girl over. Look, I don't mind his prolific activities; but--"

"What, you can't sleep at night?" Arthur asked jokingly.  
  
Merlin lamely nodded. "Well yeah, but that's not the problem. The thing is... I'm worried about him."  
  
Arthur cocked his head to the side in query. "Worried? Why?"  
  
Merlin cast his eyes down, as if unsure whether to push through. He poked at the remaining food on his plate and heaved a breath. "He wasn't like that before."  
  
Arthur drank from his glass and remained silent, waiting for Merlin to continue.  
  
Merlin shook himself. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be bothering you with this-- you don't even know the person," he said with an apologetic smile.  
  
"No, it's fine, really," Arthur assured him.  
  
Merlin spooned a piece of ravioli. Arthur thought he had decided to drop the subject until he spoke again. "He changed when... he got his heart broken."

"Oh," Arthur sympathized. "What happened?"

"Well, he used to date a girl named Eira. She was wonderful-- I was so sure she was the one for Gwaine. Gwaine thought so too," Merlin shared. "But as it turns out, Eira was cheating on him. When he found out, he was so furious and broke things up with her. After the breakup, Gwaine was not himself at all; it was like living with a ghost," Merlin's face became gloomy at this. "Then a week after, he started seeing someone else. I thought it was rather quick of him to move on, but I was proud of him; until a week passed, and he had a new girl. The cycle went on and on and got even shorter. It's like he has totally given up on having a serious relationship. Sometimes I wonder if he's ever gonna find someone to settle down with," Merlin finished, looking wistful.

Arthur was quiet for some time as he digested Merlin's story. What came out of his mouth was, "How about you?"

"I-- What?" Merlin looked puzzled.

"Have you found, uhm... the one?" Arthur clarified, a blush blooming on his face.

Merlin was caught off-guard by the question."Err... no, I haven't." Arthur felt his heart shed some weight upon Merlin's answer. "It's not like I'm going around looking for it.... I think."

"You think?"

"Call me hopeless romantic, but I think that's one of the reasons why I love to travel: to find my... err, soulmate." Merlin said, ducking his head in embarrassment.

Arthur remained silent.

"Alright, I know what you're thinking: I'm such a sap," Merlin resigned, shrugging his shoulders.

"No!" Arthur voiced out.

"You think I'm an idiot," Merlin said with a curious and challenging look in his eyes.

"Not that," Arthur clarified, "It's just, how sure are you that your... soulmate isn't just in London?"

"The thing is," Merlin looked him straight in the eye. "I'm not."

Arthur lost himself in those deep blue eyes. It felt like Merlin was telling him more with them. He did not know how long they would have stared into each other's souls if it were not for the clatter of a silverware on a table nearby.  
  
"Well, anyway!" Merlin barked with a wave of his hand, the moment shattered. "Enough about me, tell me about yourself," he said, his smile looking quite impish.

Unsure of where to start, Arthur permitted Merlin to initiate with questions. Arthur then shared about having a sister, Morgana; going to Oxford (which Merlin snorted at. "I went to Cambridge. Scholarship," Merlin stated. They proceeded to glare at each other for a few good seconds afterwards.); growing up in Surrey ("you really complete the posh prat list, don't you?" piped Merlin.) Arthur then refused to talk after that, arguing that Merlin kept on interrupting. Merlin aww-ed and apologized, promising to keep his mouth shut for the rest of the time. Arthur looked smug, until he realized that he did not what else to tell; so he asked Merlin to start speaking again. They went to the topic of their favorite places in New York, and continued to talk about pretty much anything until they finished eating. They bantered over many things, with Merlin throwing sly looks at Arthur whenever he got the upper-hand. Arthur was astounded to find that they actually took a long time over dinner, and realized how easy it was to strike up and maintain a conversation with Merlin.

Arthur asked for the bill-- which Ted brought-- paid it, and told the waiter to "keep the change". He and Merlin then agreed to finally leave the restaurant.

They stepped out of the  _trattoria_ , exposing themselves to the cold night breeze. Arthur shivered and kept his hands in his pockets; he should have worn a jacket, or a scarf at least. Merlin, who seemed to have noticed his reaction, sidled closer, making his clothed arm and Arthur's bare one touch. They walked together, arms and shoulders pressed together, Arthur seeking the warmth that Merlin radiated.  
  
When they got to the hotel, they headed straight to the lift. As soon as they entered, a group of old ladies with their own luggage trickled into the lift. Arthur barely got to push the button to his floor until he found him and Merlin pushed to the back. Arthur ended with his back pressed on Merlin's chest. He felt Merlin's warm breath tickling his ear and neck, sending a shiver down his spine. His backside was also (in)conveniently pressed up against Merlin; Arthur was too distracted by Merlin breathing on his erogenous zones to figure out if there really was something hard pressing up against his arse.

When the lift stopped on the twelfth floor, Arthur pushed through the crowd and exited. He then hurriedly walked towards the door to his hotel room, not bothering to look back and check if Merlin was trailing behind him. He fumbled with taking his wallet out of his pocket. Once he pulled out the keycard, his hand struggled to fit it through the slot. Behind him, he heard Merlin's footsteps come to a halt. 

Card in, a green dot lit up. Arthur opened the door, Merlin following quickly.

As soon as they were both inside, Arthur pushed Merlin against the door and surged forward (Merlin meeting him halfway), crashing their lips together.

Arthur felt something in him light up, as if it has been set on fire. It was like nothing he felt before with anyone else-- this was so much more. Suddenly, he felt complete; and he did not even know that he was missing something until now. He wondered if this was what it felt when you found your soulmate. Like Merlin, he also hoped to find his soulmate-- however, he did not go actively looking for it. The feeling even intensified when Merlin carded his fingers through Arthur's hair and kept them there. They kissed with such passion, the initial uncertainty between them slipping away with every held breath.

Merlin suddenly pulled back and tilted his head, avoiding Arthur's persistent lips. "Don't you have a girlfriend?"

Arthur turned his assault on tempting expanse of Merlin's neck. "If I had a girlfriend, I wouldn't be kissing you right now," Arthur answered as he pulled Merlin back and made their lips meet once more.

"A boyfriend, then?" Merlin gasped.

"No.  _Mer_ lin,  _for fuck's sake_ , just stop talking," Arthur murmured, lips not leaving Merlin's, briefly wondering why Merlin never bothered asking it earlier.

"I thought that's where we're heading," Merlin spoke against Arthur's mouth.

Arthur grunted and tugged Merlin towards the bed, never letting their lips disconnect. He switched them so that Merlin was closest to the bed, and pushed him towards it.

Merlin fell back unto the bed, pulling Arthur down with him. They kept kissing, hungry for each other, limbs entangled. He felt Merlin's hands grab at his back, crumpling his shirt. Daringly, Arthur's tongue slipped into Merlin's mouth, where it was welcomed with ferocity. Merlin sucked on his tongue, making his hips grind down on Merlin's. A moan vibrated throughout the room, and Arthur was not sure who made the sound.

Needing air, Arthur pulled his lips away, making Merlin whine. Realizing the opportunity, Merlin launched at Arthur's neck, sucking and nipping with the intention of leaving a mark.  
  
"Mer-Merlin," Arthur stuttered. He then felt Merlin's hands grip his arse, pressing their crotches together. Their hips found the perfect rhythm, and breathy moans filled the room. Merlin's hands traveled upwards, slipping under Arthur's shirt. Arthur found Merlin's lips again and kissed him hard. Meanwhile, his hand skimmed on Merlin's side, eliciting a gasp from the other man. 

Merlin made to pull at Arthur's shirt. Understanding his intent, Arthur sat up and shifted so that he was straddling Merlin by the hip. The other man watched him with lust-blown eyes as he took off his shirt.  
  
Merlin's lips parted inaudibly upon seeing his naked torso. Arthur could not help but swell inside with pride. He then brought his hands at the hem of Merlin's jumper and tugged it upwards. Merlin lifted his arms and back slightly so Arthur could completely slip his clothing off. Once bared, Arthur could not help but marvel at Merlin's body as well. Where he was toned and packed, Merlin was lean. Unconsciously, he trailed his fingers downward on Merlin's chest. When he saw his face, Merlin was pink with shyness. God, he was beautiful.  
  
Merlin made a noise. Arthur must have said his thought out loud. Filled with the desire to assure him, Arthur leaned in and captured Merlin's lips once more. He fiercely sucked at the other man's lips, making Merlin groan in pleasure. Merlin's hands clutched at Arthur's back, nails scratching on his skin. Arthur then ran his fingers through Merlin's hair, disheveling them.  
  
"I want you to fuck me," Merlin said, his hips snapping up. "We need--"  
  
Reluctantly (because of the loss of contact, but eagerly at the thought of what was next) Arthur stood up and walked over to Merlin's bag. He took out the pouch that he found earlier that afternoon, remembering its mischievous contents. Merlin watched him from the bed with a surprised look, his kiss-swollen lips slightly parted. Arthur thought about how delicious the sight of him was. Before climbing back unto the bed, Arthur unbuttoned his jeans and slipped out of them. He heard Merlin growl as he proceeded to pull his pants off. Upon being released, Arthur's thick length stood hard and unabashed. 

As he made his way back to the bed, Merlin began working on the button and fly of his slim-fit jeans. Arthur's hands took over and roughly tugged them off. Merlin's long cock sprang between them, already wet on the tip. Arthur's mouth watered at the sight.

"Commando, really?" Arthur asked with a raise of a brow. "I'd say you were expecting this."

Merlin's cheeks turned pink. "I didn't have extra pants," he corrected.

Straddling Merlin once again, Arthur twisted off the cap of the bottle in his hand, and coated his fingers with lube. He then grabbed the spare pillow and put it under Merlin's hips for leverage. He traced a slick finger around the rim of Merlin's hole, relishing in the noises Merlin made.

"What are you doing?" Merlin keened.  
  
Arthur just smirked at him, still teasing his hole.  
  
"Just get on with it Arthur," Merlin growled.   
  
"Bossy, aren't we?" Arthur asked, punctuating his question with the push of his finger through Merlin's entrance.  
  
Merlin let out a hiss. As soon as he nodded weakly, Arthur began moving his finger around, stretching the tight hole. He then thrust his finger in and out, and followed a second finger. Delicious sounds tumbled out of Merlin's lips as Arthur's fingers worked him open.

"Arthur!" Merlin screamed as Arthur hit a particular spot. "If you don't-- please--"  
  
Arthur pulled his fingers out and prepared himself. He tore open the square packet of foil with his teeth, and stretched the condom over his length. Liberally, he coated it with lube. Bracing himself, he hovered over Merlin and lined his cock with Merlin's entrance. Arthur pressed a chaste kiss on the other man's lips before pushing in.  
  
"So tight," Arthur grunted as soon as he was fully inside. Gently, he thrust in and out. Underneath him, Merlin was a whimpering mess.  
  
Merlin grabbed on Arthur's broad shoulders and wrapped his legs around Arthur's waist, changing the angle. The snap of their hips became more erratic, and soon Merlin was screaming Arthur's name as he came.  
  
A few more thrusts and Arthur soon followed, his only sound a guttural "Merlin". Arthur pulled out then stripped the condom off his cock, knotted the end, and threw it towards the general direction of the trash bin. Limbs weakened, he fell on top of Merlin. He felt the other man's chest rise and fall with every breath.

===

With Arthur slumped on top of him, Merlin rolled to his side and gently pushed the other man off, so that they were lying beside each other on the bed. Instinctively, he brushed some hair away from Arthur's face. Tired, but vibrant blue eyes looked back at him. As he finally regained some strength, Merlin rose, wincing at the shock of pain from his backside. Limping slightly, Merlin strode towards the table and pulled out some napkins. On the way back, he picked up the used condom (hissing at the motion of bending down) and disposed of it properly.  
  
As soon as he climbed back on the bed, Merlin cleaned him and Arthur up, threw the napkins away, and settled back against the sheets. Arthur huddled closer to Merlin and tangled their legs together. He then pressed his head against Merlin's chest. Merlin smiled at Arthur's move and pulled the blanket over their naked bodies. He then felt Arthur smile too against his bare chest as he embraced Arthur.

"You know, I just wasted one night of my hotel booking," Merlin said.

"So I'll stay over at yours tomorrow," Arthur replied, looking up at him with a cheeky grin. "Then we're even."

Merlin hummed. "Sounds great."

Arthur shuffled closer (as if it was possible) and slid his arms to wrap them around Merlin's waist.

"You still have a conference tomorrow," Merlin reminded.

Arthur groaned. "Yeah, don't remind me," he grumbled.

"What time do you finish?" Merlin asked. "Maybe you can meet Lance, too."

No reply followed. When Merlin looked down, he saw that Arthur had already dozed off, his eyes closed and breathing even. Chuckling to himself, Merlin pressed a light kiss on Arthur's blond head and followed to drift off to sleep.

_f i n_


End file.
